


Companions and Their First Time with the Sole Survivor

by tea_petty



Series: Collection of Companions' Reactions [9]
Category: Fallout 4
Genre: Companions, Companions React, F/F, F/M, First Time, NSFW
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-07
Updated: 2018-12-07
Packaged: 2019-09-13 11:40:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 20,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16891923
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tea_petty/pseuds/tea_petty
Summary: A series of drabbles involving the Sole Survivor's first time with their Companion.





	1. Cait and the Sole Survivor Play a Wicked Game

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted to my Tumblr; tea-petty

Your head sounded against the wall with a dull thud as Cait pressed you up against it, her lips tasted slick with booze, her fingers probing your body, restlessly squeezing; they were strangely adept given her drunken state.  You squirmed beneath her touch, your body reacting like a live wire, every contact sending you into a frenzy.  The warm flush that had settled over you in your own intoxication only grew warmer, burning your skin, and stirring the heat of your arousal; like pouring gasoline on a fire.

Heat pooled between your thighs, enticing you to lean further into her, pressing flush against her, and yet, still not close enough.  Her body heat radiated through the thin fabric of her clothing, but they could have kept you miles apart for what it was doing for you.  

You reached up feverishly in an attempt to start shrugging off the leather jacket you wore.

“No,” Cait growled into the kiss as her hand came to pin yours against the wall roughly.  Your knuckles stung as they rapped against the wall.

You gasped, the blaze in her eyes making you unbearably hot.  You writhed beneath her again, trying to find some relief for the throbbing arousal at the junction of your thighs.  Your thighs clamped together just in time to be artlessly pried apart by her hand, as she smoothed it over the crotch of your pants.

A whimper sounded from your throat, you bucked your hips; fearing you might collapse under the intensity of such want.  You felt her roughly stroke between your legs, the friction of the fabric against your sex painfully underwhelming.  

“Ah, please…”

You whined, unable to keep your head, foggy with pleasure.

“Well, since yer  _beggin_ ’…”  

Cait pressed another hungry kiss to your mouth, nipping at your lips sharply, feeling you recoil into the wall behind you, before wrenching the jacket from your shoulders harshly.  It fell to the floor with a solid  _smack_.  In the next instance, she swooped in to latch her mouth to your neck, the softness of her lips moving against the sensitive skin, contrasting erotically with the angry bites she was leaving.  Her teeth teased your skin as she sucked, releasing when it started to get painful, leaving a series of dark marks.

You groaned, and it only seemed to encourage her.

Her hands released their vise-like hold on your body against the wall, before quickly reaching up to grab your shirt, into two tight fists, before pulling abruptly.  Your skin prickled at the sudden exposure, before blistering as Cait’s mouth moved to singe the supple flesh that lay dangerously close to your bra cup. Buttons scattered to the floor in a million different directions, a sharp overture to the crescendo of lust that was building.

You suddenly felt light headed, and you leaned on Cait, panting.

“W-wait,”

Her nose skimmed across your collarbone, her eyes looking up at you through her long lashes.

“No more waitin’” she chided, but her hands idled at your sides, her accent stronger with the relaxed drawl, courtesy of the whiskey.

You hesitated, her fingers impatiently teasing the hem of your ruined shirt.

“I-It’s my first time with…,” you stammered, suddenly feeling quite small.

Cait froze, as a new heat blazed across your cheeks.

You watched her face morph from fervent to pensive.

“It is, huh?  Well, tha’ sure does change things.”  

You watched as she released you, hyper aware of the lack of protection your tattered shirt provided.  Cait reached up to gently cup your cheek, the fire in her eyes subdued to an adoring warmth.

She gently pressed her lips against your own, softly meshing them, bending them to the motion of your own; like two perfectly matched puzzle pieces.  Her hands couldn’t remain still in this newfound gentleness either.  Like before, they moved up and down your body, like they were trying to cover as much surface area as possible, but instead of grabbing and pinching, they were petting and tracing.  Skimming and massaging.  Your breath caught in your throat at such raw tenderness, so different from the hungry, selfishness of earlier.  Your heart reveled in this adoration, but at the back of your mind, memories of Cait’s earlier unbridled desire flashed, making the heat in the pit of your stomach smolder.

Her hands returned to what was once a functional shirt, reaching under to gently caress your shoulders before sweeping over to help you shrug off the fabric.  You hadn’t anticipated feeling so vulnerable – the sex you knew had told you that you’d feel hot, sexy, reeling with desire, teetering on the brink of sound decision making and giving up control.  But instead you felt small and clumsy, exposed; like you couldn’t have had control even if it crawled into your hands.  Instinctively, you reached up to cover yourself, only for Cait to block you once again.  Her grip strong again, as they brought your wrists up so she could plant soft kisses along your knuckles.  Her eyes glittered in the low lighting of the room, intensifying the devotion in her gaze.

“Don’ get shy on me.”

This had the opposite effect, and you looked away as your raging blush spread.

Cait leaned in to kiss you softly again, before tentatively sliding her hands across the cups of your bra.  It shifted with the movement, the fabric teasing your hardened nipples.  You grew wetter, as your breathing hitched.  Her hands moved away to smooth at your sides, tracing up to knead gently at your back, pulling you into a dynamic embrace, as she planted a trail of kisses from your throat to your shoulder.  Her hair tickled your nose, and you closed your eyes, the small tickle somehow intensifying the sensitive way in which your body seemed to soak up Cait’s touches.

You let out a breathless moan, as you felt her gently unclasp your bra, the garment falling to the floor as pressure released from your chest.  You kept your eyes pinched shut, waiting for the onslaught of touches on the swell of your breasts.

“Shall we move this party somewhere more comfortable?”

Cait asked softly, only to gently tow you to the bed a few feet away.  You noticed the natural movement of your body as you let your body fall to the bed, jostling you as you spread out deliciously before her.  Cait wasted no time, her hands caressing up the soft skin of your belly, before luxuriously smoothing over your breasts.  Your breathing grew heavier under the attention, as she squeezed gently, before latching her mouth onto one, her tongue teasing your right nipple, as her forefinger and thumb focused on the left.  You moaned as a wave of pleasure rippled down to your dripping sex.  Your thighs tensed, and your hands reached behind you to grab fistfuls of the sheets, twisting them as your body contorted with pleasure.

Cait gave them one last squeeze, letting her nose softly into the soft underside, before moving south, leaving a path of wet kisses in her wake.  She paused to skim her nose against your belly for a moment; if only to see the way you flinched away from the tickle, before continuing down to your belt line. Sitting up, she let her fingers undo the belt.  She worked  _fast_.  Her fingers deafly popped the button on your jeans, the resistance enough to undo the zipper, before she slid them down your legs, edging them down the luxurious curves.

A few moments later, she was coming back up, her hands smoothing upwards again, reminding you vaguely of a cat stretching.   Cait had the same limber eroticism. Her fingers hooked around the waistband of your panties, before slowly dragging those down as well.  You sat up suddenly, clenching your thighs together nervously.

“H-hang on, I’ve never…”

Cait smiled reassuringly, “But  _I_  have,”

“Y-yes but I mean I haven’t… _prepped_  the area, and i-it is a…you know.  What if you don’t…like it?”

Cait wrinkled her nose humorously, “Love, your body does all the preppin’ you need, you don’ need to worry about that.  Yer… _area_  is fine jus’ the way it is.  And,” she grinned cheekily, “I’ve been at this long enough to know if I like it or not.”

You blushed brightly, as she reached up to bring you into a quick kiss, pressing her nose sweetly to yours, in an attempt to put your nerves at ease.

“I’ll take care of ye, okay?  So you jus’  - let me do the work.”

You let yourself fall back again, eyes pinched shut.

You let Cait gently spread your thighs.  Her fingers crept up, up, up your legs, delicately tracing circles along your inner thigh.  You tensed the higher she reached.

“Sshh, c’mon now,” she murmured.

Her fingers brushed against the sensitive flesh in the barest hint of a touch.

Desire flashed through you, and your hips raised in want.

“’Atta girl.”

You felt yourself warm at her chuckle, as she firmly planted your hips flat against the mattress, before bringing a lithe finger to trace along your slit.  Wetness seeped from it, as she let her finger work its way deeper.  You could  _hear_  how wet you were, much to your horror.  You moaned slightly; out of both shame and pleasure when suddenly you felt Cait’s warm breath fan across the sensitive area.  You trembled slightly, entirely unable to control the way your body reacted to such attention.  Cait pressed a kiss deep into the curls at the juncture of your thighs, before bringing her tongue slowly across your sex, following the path her finger had blazed. You groaned loudly, writhing, the steely hold she kept on your hips only making you more receptive to her.  Her tongue squirmed in you, drawing aimless patterns; pausing only when she felt you convulse sharply as her tongue accidentally brushed against a small bundle of nerves.  You writhed in her hold, as she focused her tongue on your clit, teasing it the way she had earlier with your nipples.  You felt the coiled pleasure that had at one point tethered you to this bed, and to Cait, begin to loosen.  Cait sensed this too, and her lips moved frantically; like the kiss that had started this whole sequence of events.  Her resolute hold on you firmly planting her face into your cunt, her kisses all wide mouthed, with a mingle of lips and tongue.  

“Ah-“  you whimpered, arching your back.

You were hurtling towards your release so fast, you could barely register Cait’s husky voice.

“Say my name.”  

Your rapid heart rate set the pace, as the coil within you released.  Cait felt your muscles tense, and release before another round of wetness seeped out.

Cait pulled back, wiping her mouth on her wrist, before crawling back up on to the bed, to lay alongside your spent body.

You were too exhausted to clean up the silky wetness that glazed the insides of your thighs.

“Good, huh?”  Cait grinned cheekily.

You could only nod, “Incredible,” you murmured, your head spinning as you struggled to keep your consciousness anchored to the land of the living.

Cait scoffed, noticing your fatigue, “You didn’t do a  _lick_  of work,” she shook her head, “and yer still tired?”

She planted a kiss on your slightly parted lips, as a small snore sounded from you.  Cait drew the blankets up over the both of you, her arms encircling your naked body, damp with sweat.

“You win this time, pillow princess.”


	2. Curie Paints a Pretty Picture

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Sole Survivor shows Curie one of the benefits of having a human body.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted to my Tumblr; tea-petty

You pressed your lips against Curie’s; they were soft, and she smelled faintly of vanilla.  Both of your faces lit up a brilliant crimson, as fireworks decorated your eyelids – it was silly, almost juvenile, but it was an excitement you thought you’d never feel again.  Gently, you reached up to place a hand on Curie’s cheek, slipping your tongue into the kiss, deepening it.  You heard Curie let out a gasp, her hands bunching up the fabric of your shirt, in an attempt to draw you even closer.  She leaned back, letting the force of your warming kiss pin her to the couch you had been lounging on.  

Without even realizing it, you had clambered atop her, your hands that had initially been tenderly cupped at her face, migrating south to explore foreign lands.  Curie shuddered into your touch, a low whine in her throat, the heat of your own arousal searing through you.  You kissed her hungrily, melding your lips together, teasing her with your teeth, palming her lovely curves.

“Ah – b-before we continue, y-you should know…”

You pulled back; her lips were slightly swollen, her short hair was tousled, and she was flushed.  

“Eet eez my first time doing zhis.”

You blinked at her.  Right.  She was new to this body.

Curie’s eyes were clear and honest, so you could see right through to her nervousness.  You smiled sweetly, “Well, then that makes both of us.  Tonight’s my first time with you.”

She smiled tentatively, before reaching her fingers up to tangle in your hair, pulling you into an ardent kiss.  This time it was her who slid her tongue in, wriggling it experimentally.  You smiled into the kiss, finding her reactions cute.  

“Eez zhat okay?”

“Perfect.”

Her lips worked against yours, a little clumsy but enthusiastic and adding to the arousal that pooled between your legs. Your fingers fiddled with the hem of her flannel shirt, asking for permission, itching to undo the buttons one by one, and expose more of what you had before, only dared to fantasize about in the most private crannies of your psyche.

She did you one better, and eagerly tugged, roughly prying the buttons from their places, and letting the fabric drip from her form in one fell swoop.

Your hands eagerly smoothed up the soft expanse of her abdomen, reveling in the softness of her skin, feeling the plumpness of her hips, and the divot of her waist, the dimples in her back.  Her own hands fret at your shirt, before you let her pull it up, and over your head.  You could tell she was mimicking you; trying to touch everything as fast as she could. And yet, there was a cute sort of hesitation to her actions, as if she wasn’t quite sure she was touching you correctly.  You moaned to let her know, as her hands reached around to adeptly unclip your bra, before tossing it away.  You leaned into her touch so that she could cup your breasts.  Your gaze flickered to her face, watching the pink in her cheeks, her eyes focused on the ministrations of your chest.  Save for the blush, it was the same concentrated look she had when ensnared in her research.  You had to swallow a laugh, careful not to disturb her.  You let yourself fall back onto the plush couch, so that now she was on top, giving her more control.  Your legs wrapped around her, encouragingly, and she brought her lips to yours, trapping you in another heated kiss.  She gave your breasts a soft squeeze, feeling the soft weightiness, before continuing to ghost downward.  

She is busy hooking a finger into the waistband of your pants as you struggle to reach around and get her bra off in your current position.  Curie is still slowly working at the button on your trousers when the garment falls from her chest, trying to work up the courage to cross the  _southern border_.

You impatiently swipe the useless garment away as it falls to you, before eagerly moving your own hands up to touch her, enjoying the soft, plumpness, gently teasing her nipples with your fingers. She gasped, and you felt the tension in your stomach wind up even tighter.  You wanted release so bad, it ached.

You felt Curie tug your pants down to you knees, and you shimmied, helping her slide them down the slope of your calves, before allowing your thighs to remain open, inviting.  You stared up at her, and she seemed unable to do anything else but stare; stuck.

You smirked, “I think you’re entirely overdressed.”

A fresh wave of crimson washed over her face, as she turned her attention to her own pants, popping the button and sliding them down; an action she was more familiar with finally.  You got up, and gently pushed her so that she was laying back down on the couch, she let you switch your positions once again; you would need to take the lead for this next part.

You skimmed the side of your index finger gently across the damp crotch of her panties, and she shivered. Your own arousal raged at the sight of hers.  You clamped your thighs together, and gently angled a finger into the side of her panties, sliding the crotch to the side, and exposing her sex to you.  Curie propped herself up on her elbows, entranced by this new attention.  You fixed your gaze on her, slowly stroking your index finger down the length of her slit and watched as she convulsed.

“Ah –“

Her breathing hitched in her throat, and you stroked again, this time with two fingers, watching as her body contorted with pleasure.  You broke your even pattern; slow strokes, fast jerks, circles, then teasing her entrance.

She moaned loudly, as you gently sunk your fingers in; you had anticipated resistance, had been ready to patiently ease your way in; after all, your first time had hurt.  Curie was so slick you were able to slip right in.

“Is this okay?” you murmured.

“ _Magnifique_!”

Had her silky French accent always seemed so dirty?

You pumped your fingers, watching as the movement jostled her, the movements highlighting the most luscious bits of her body; her breasts bounced, her thighs shook - your arousal continued to burn in response.

You edged your thumb out to brush against the bundle of nerves as you pumped, trying to bring Curie to orgasm.  You knew immediately when you had found her clit, from the way she writhed under your frantic fingers.

“I-I can’t take zhis much longer!”

This admission only made your fingers work faster; your fingers and wrist skillfully maneuvering Curie’s lower anatomy, manipulating the most sensitive spots.  Your fingers slid in and out with a wet  _schlik_. The musky scent of sex lingered in the air, as you watched Curie’s body bend erotically under the will of her inevitable climax, her body glittering from the sheen of sweat.

You found Curie’s release before she did; the telling way her muscles clamped around your fingers, followed a moment later by her own desperate whine.  Your fingers never ceased their rhythmic pumping, determined to help Curie ride out her finish to the very end.  Your pumping slowed as her contorting did, her muscles relaxed.  You pulled your fingers out slowly, watching her tired body jerk slightly as you did; hypersensitive as she basked in the afterglow of orgasm.

“How was that?”

Curie lay back, her eyes shut.

“ _Fantastique_ , I can see now why ‘umans ‘ave a ‘abit of being swayed by such physicalities.”

You wrapped your arms around her spent form, drawing the  throw blanket from the back of the couch, up around your naked bodies.

“Ah, but,  _cherie_ , what about you?”

 _I’ll have to rub one out later_ , you thought wryly, still restless with desire.

“It was your first time,” you reassured her, “so this was about you today.”

Curie opened her eyes, furrowing her eyebrows worriedly.

You pressed a kiss to her cheek.

“I’ll give you lots of opportunities to practice.” You grinned.

She nuzzled closer to you, her eyes shutting once again with affirmation.

“Good – I’ll ‘ave you know zhat I’m quite knowledgeable in ‘uman anatomy.”  She said loftily.

“I don’t doubt it.”


	3. Danse Needs the Sole Survivor Tonight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Sole Survivor is frustrated with Danse's seeming lack of interest. Then she starts something Danse has no choice but to finish.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted to my Tumblr; tea-petty

Danse wasn’t the sort to gawk.  He didn’t cat-call, or wolf whistle, or make unseemly remarks. He prided himself in being the sort of man who was more restrained than that; at noticing attractive people with a silent admiration, and from a respectable distance, keeping the more primal nature of his attraction to himself in the privacy of his own quarters, under the safe covering of night.  

Even when he had started dating you, one standing on the outside of the relationship would barely be able to discern the personal nature of your relationship; Danse was not one for PDA.  Hell, he wasn’t one for private displays of affection if the lights were on.  You’d been dating for two weeks already, and the man still behaved like a saint with you.

This changed on a day that had started out like any other.  You had gone out to do something for some person in the Commonwealth, and had returned dusty, dinged up, and triumphant as usual.  Danse had been home already, packing up the toolbox that sat under the overhang of your quaint house in Sanctuary, ready to go in and make dinner for the two of you.

“Hey there, stranger.”

You quirked a small smile at him.

If you hadn’t known Danse, you wouldn’t have been able to decipher the barest hint of his own.

“You’re back.”

“I am, and in desperate need of dinner and a shower.”

You stretched up onto your tiptoes, going in for a kiss, which Danse came to chastely meet.

“Well, I can help you with one of those.”

You batted your eyelashes at him, “Not both?”

Your voice sounded cheeky, but the proposition in your voice was anything but fake.

Danse ignored your advance, “Dinner should be ready by the time you finish up.”

He planted one last kiss on the top of your head, before disappearing into the house.

Disappointed, you headed towards the shower.  It was as if he had no interested in being intimate with you! Of course, Danse was a gentleman, but manners be damned; you couldn’t be clearer about your needs if you wrote them on your forehead.  This willful ignorance confused you – you were confident that he…also had such wants, for one thing, there had been kissing.  Lots of steamy, grabby, make-out sessions, but it was as if he had drawn a line in the sand, and when he sensed the two of you about to cross that line, he retreated.

You turned on the water, before beginning to undress; you had no clue where his reluctance to be intimate came from, but you would do your damnedest to deal with this problem, once and for all.  Perhaps writing it on your forehead is what it would take after all.  

You scrubbed the dirt and grime from your skin, lathering soap in your hair, taking your time; half hoping Danse would wander into the bathroom to catch you naked and soaped up.  He didn’t of course.  

When you were finally clean, you stepped out, grabbing the towel you had set aside prior, and wrapped it securely around you. You wrung out your hair, and stepped out of the bathroom, your bare feet against the floor barely made a sound as you stealthily made your way to the kitchen, to where Danse was busy cooking.

“Looks good.” You remarked, trying to sound casual.

“It should be done any minute.” His gaze flicked to you briefly before going back to the pot, the double take he pulled next not going unnoticed by you.  You pretended otherwise and made your way around the counter so that you were standing right behind him.

“It smells great, I’m excited.”  You lowered your voice as you crept around him, so close you could feel the warmth that radiated from his skin.

“Thank you,” he cleared his throat.

You noted the tautness of his arm as he stiffly finished stirring the pot.

“I’m not surprised, you’re a man of many skills.”

You reached up to smooth your hands over his shoulders, he nearly jumped out of his skin at your touch.

“You shouldn’t do this.”

His own voice was low now, matching the secretive tone you had taken on in your attempt to seduce him.

“Why not?” you murmured, not skipping a beat, but vaguely prepared to be rejected.

“Because I’ve been trying like hell to be a gentleman, and if you keep prancing around like that,” he swallowed, his gaze wandering over to where damp skin became towel, “I don’t know how much longer I’ll be able to stay that way.”

Now  _that_  excited you.

“I’m curious as to what you mean by that,” you said innocently.  

In the next instance, he had scooped you up into his arms, and was making his way to the bedroom, the abruptness of the movement nearly ripping the towel from you.   He tossed you haphazardly onto the bed, and you lost the towel completely.  He watched intently as you settled onto the bed, wet hair splayed out around your head like a halo, your skin still shining from the wetness.  

From where you were laying, he looked almost predatory as he studied you, his face as controlled as ever, save for his eyes, which burned with want.

He came to lean over you, propping himself up by his elbows so that he was caging you to the bed, shielding the nakedness of your body with his own, as he crashed his lips into yours, all tongue, and teeth, and need.  His right hand ran down your body, searching for anything and everything, every curve feeding the fire of his arousal, and yours.

The same hand returned to your right breast, palming it before breaking the heated kiss and latching his mouth to your nipple fervently.

You groaned, your hands reaching up to twine in his hair, tugging, and encouraging the rough sucking.

He nipped at the small, erect bud, emitting a squeak from you, before heading up again to bury his face in the crook of your neck, his hand reaching down further to stroke at your dripping sex.

“You’re wet,” he remarked, his voice husky.

You whimpered, flushing.

He stroked roughly, feeling your silky essence over his calloused fingertips.  Every nerve in your body seemed to want this man.  Your arms returned to their place beside your head, twisting at the sheets as the air left your lungs.  You would gladly trade the oxygen you breathed if that’s what it took to have Danse continue his ministrations.  He eased two thick fingers inside you, pumping immediately.  The silky wetness had made it easy enough to slip them in, but you still felt the subtle burn as he stretched you, and you winced.

Danse noticed this, and slowed, waiting for you to adjust to the girth.  He leaned down to kiss you again, this time gentler, comforting.

“I’m bigger than this,” he murmured, and your breath caught in your throat, as the pain began to melt away.

You bucked your hips, signaling to him to start moving again, and he pumped his fingers in and out, each pump audibly wet, as if it were announcing your arousal to all of Sanctuary.  

You spread your thighs as far as they would go, inviting him deeper, pushing him further.

He grunted, before abruptly removing both fingers, you whined at the emptiness you felt.

He tugged his black crewneck off, tossing it to some unknown corner of the room, before popping the button of his jeans, and removing those as well.  You propped yourself up onto your elbows, watching the obvious bulge in his briefs. Even covered, you could tell he was large.

You gulped as he hooked his fingers in the waistband, and tugged them down, exposing himself fully.

You gulped.

He prowled over to your position on the bed, returning to his original caged position above you.  You tentatively reached up to run your hands over his torso, marveling at the chiseled layer of muscle beneath his skin.  He was mesmerizing.

He captured your lips in another kiss, this one holding a note of finality.  

“Turn over,” he nearly growled, pulling away.

You did so obediently, shivering as you felt him run his hands down your thighs.  His touch disappeared only for something thick, and fleshy to brush against the juncture of your thighs.  Your breathing grew heavy, and you saw his arms reached around to hold himself above you, positioning himself around your body again.  He eased his engorged cock into your entrance, and you grit your teeth at the familiar burning stretch, grateful you had been prepared for it.  

“D-Danse,” you gasped.

He started thrusting immediately, going at a speed that left you fighting to keep up.  The shock of his size kept you clamped tight around him, as he rammed into you.  Your body jolted with a strange combination of pain and pleasure, your arms shook, and you collapsed, finding yourself face down on the bed.  One of Danse’s large hands reached up to grab a breast, teasing your nipple with the palm of his hand, before gripping it, and using it to further maneuver you around him.  Your entire body seemed to shake under the force of Danse’s thrusts, the bed rocked beneath you, knocking repeatedly against the tinny walls.

Your arousal raged inside of you, the coil in your gut tightening to an almost painful degree.  Danse was sending you hurtling towards your release, and then, as abruptly as it had started, it was gone.  A whine sounded in your throat as the emptiness returned, and you reached a hand down to bury it between your legs, needing relief, craving a presence inside you.

“No.”

His grip stopped your hand inches from your sensitive flesh, desperate, you tried to rut against his vise-like hold, and at the back of your head, you wondered at the possibility of bruising.

It didn’t last long though; in the next second, Danse grabbed your hips, and flipped you over, so that you were on your back once again.

He slid his cock straight in, and began his relentless thrusting again, burying his face in your shoulder.

Again, you felt a build up inside of you, as he pushed himself as deep as he could go.  You moaned, loudly, needing some outlet from the waves up pleasure that overwhelmed you.  His arms pinned you against the bed, as he fucked you roughly, the delicious friction sending you both teetering on the brink of orgasm.  Your breasts bounced with the impact of his thrusts, and he adjusted his position to bury his face in them, nuzzling, sucking, biting; with an almost animalistic fervor.

You tensed around him, freefalling as your climax took you.  He groaned at the intense pressure, skipping a thrust before resuming with a haphazard rhythm.

It only took a few more, before you felt a warmth seep into you, and he collapsed on you, sweaty and panting, marking the end of his own release as well.

You lay there, slick with sex, for a few minutes, before Danse pulled out of you.  You shuddered at the feeling of his softness leaving you, still feeling raw, before curling up into yourself.  The bed creaked as Danse got up, reaching for the towel from earlier, before gently prying open your thighs, and wiping at his essence, dripping from you.  You warmed at the gesture and watched as he briefly wiped the tip of his own sex off, before discarding the towel, and pulling the blanket up around the both of you, his arms encircling you against his chest.

“Was that…okay for you?”  the careful Danse was back again.

“It was outstanding.”  You grinned, and he chuckled, nuzzling his nose into your shoulder blade.

Night was setting in, you could hear crickets chirping, and see the orange glow of the sun retreating over the horizon.  The smell of sex lingered in the air – that and something else.  

_Wait…_

You felt Danse tense behind you.

“Crap – dinner!”

He leapt up with an almost comical energy, grabbing the towel to wrap around his waist, before racing to the kitchen.  You settled in, decidedly satisfied.


	4. Deacon's on Fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When the sexual frustration is exactly that bad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted to my Tumblr; tea-petty

You sat at the bar, sipping your drink, supposedly undercover in Goodneighbor. ‘Supposedly’ being the key word in that one, you were fairly sure that everyone was well aware of the identity of that ‘one drifter in the shades’,two, everyone knew who you were, and three – you and Deacon were currently boozing it up at the Third Rail – you weren’t sure exactly how that would help the synths, but you didn’t outwardly have an argument for not hanging out for the night, so you figured you’d just enjoy it while it lasted.

Deacon came to clap you on the back, “Why the frown? I thought you liked Goodneighbor?”

You smiled wryly, “I do, but I’m curious as to how this is ‘official Railroad business’.”

Deacon nodded, “We officially need a night off.”

You scoffed but didn’t argue. After weeks of begging the universe to give you a freakin’ break, this should be a welcome gift.

“No, really though, there was word of potential…clientele here in Goodneighbor, and as long as Hancock’s turning the other cheek, I figured we may as well scope it out.”

“But, if we’re undercover, how will the sy-clientele find us as –“you lowered your voice – “Railroad members?”

“Don’t you worry about that, just trust me – they know how to find us.”

You shrugged, polishing off your whiskey.

“If you say so.”

Deacon pursed his lips, “I say…we call it a night and head back to the hotel.”

You slid down from your bar stool, “Sounds like a plan, we have to head to Ticonderoga for a contact tomorrow anyways, right?”

“That’s right,”

You followed Deacon up the stairs out of the Third Rail, heading out into the Goodneighbor night, the chilly air seeming almost poetic under the soothing buzz of alcohol. The pair of you headed to your shared room at the Hotel Rexford. You entered the dusky room, noting the single bed setup.

“One bed?” you raised your eyebrows.

“Yeah,” he rubbed the back of his neck. “They were out of doubles.”

“Oh, well I can take the floor-“

“No, no, I mean I can.”

You eyed the queen-sized bed, “I don’t think that’s necessary. I mean, c’mon, we’re adults, we can share a bed. It’s fine.”

You were quiet for a few moments. Deacon didn’t bother to break the silence either. You settled on running a hand through your hair, trying to rectify some of the snarls the day’s stresses had brought upon it. 

Then Deacon’s lips were on yours, his arm crushing you to him.

“Deacon,” you murmured, around the kiss. 

“Shut up,” his lips melded against yours.

“Deacon,” you said more firmly, bracing your hands against his pecs and pushing him away.

“So it was just all in my head then?”

You hesitated.

“Work makes it messy, doesn’t it? You and me? I’m trying to find my son, and we have Railroad business, and then you and me, we…”

You were at a loss. You and Deacon. You didn’t even know his name. You only knew a series of potential truths he spoon fed to you. Why had you taken them all so readily? With anyone else, you’d have been the first to kick their asses into next week – you couldn’t trust anyone out here as it was. But Deacon? He wasn’t just a guy who you let lie to you over and over again. You worked with him, you liked him, might you even…? 

“For once, let’s just do what we want. For tonight, I’m not me, and you’re not you. We’re-“

“Just two people who…who are together in a hotel room?”

“Works for me.”

Deacon closed the distance between you, his lips fervently working at yours.

You gasped, and held him closer, loving the feeling of him pressed against you, all lean muscle, and stubble, and tasting of whiskey. You cupped his face to yours tenderly, welcoming him when he slipped his tongue in, and letting your breath hitch. Letting him notice you. Breathlessly, you pulled away, stroking his cheek tenderly. Cautiously, you reached up to gently remove the shades he always wore. He seemed to almost flinch away, as you did. Seldom had you seen him without; his eyes were an icy blue, too intense for the cheeky façade you were so used to. You closed your eyes and pressed your lips to his again, his hands slipped to your hips, fidgeting with the hem of your shirt. This lit a fire in you; you roughly tugged at his shirt, urging it off.

“You’re eager,” he remarked, only to be cut off by your desperate kisses.

Maybe it was the booze, maybe it was the need to feel close to someone, or to be someone else entirely, but you were hell bent on getting Deacon to make you forget.

Deacon ripped at the flannel you had on, letting the buttons scatter to the floor, and the clothes shed easily from there. Before you knew it, Deacon was lounging on the bed, you atop him, grinding your readily wet mound against the bulge in his briefs. His fingers teased at your sides, eyeing the silky, lace of your matching bra and panties.

“Interesting underwear,”

You had scavenged the old set from a house back in Sanctuary – if you recalled it correctly, it had been the lady’s down the street. She had been friendly enough. You hoped she’d be okay with you…borrowing it.

“Old habits die hard.” You bucked your hips, and he hissed in pleasure.

“So, you…dressed that way before the bombs dropped? Your husband was a lucky man.” 

“I’d like to think so,” you said quietly, hesitating at the bittersweet memory. You felt your eyes mist, and you ground against Deacon again, wishing you had more liquor in the room.

Deacon put two steady hands on your hips, meshing you against his crotch.

“Shit, that’s good.”

You reached behind yourself to unclasp your bra, trying to ignore his stare as the garment dropped, and you tossed it to the floor.

You fought the urge to cover yourself as you rode him, hyperaware of the way your breasts moved with the motion of his hips. Deacon jerked his hips, as if to watch them move more. He grew tired of this quickly, opting to shimmy out of his briefs a moment later.

You leaned down to press you mouth against the engorged tip.

He gasped, and you wrapped your mouth around it, focusing your tongue on it. He shuddered under your touch, and you took more of his length inside you, bobbing up and down. 

“Ah – “His fingers tangled in your hair, as he kept you latched onto his sex. You bobbed at varying speeds, going fast, and slow, and then somewhere in between, trying to blindside him into losing control.

You felt it twitch in your mouth; he groaned, and you knew he was going to cum soon. You released his cock with a haughty pop, just in time.

He whimpered, “You’re such a tease.”

“Maybe you should spank me.” You shot back.

He lunged for you, capturing you in a rough kiss and forcing you back onto the bed.

“Oh, a glutton for punishment?”

He pinned you to the bed, snagging the crotch of your panties to the side, and plunging a finger into your wetness.

“Fuck “you groaned, twisting a fistful of the sheets.

“The mouth on you, “he murmured, “You definitely need to be punished.”

He wriggled his finger into you, and you convulsed, the desire you subdued in favor of control unable to stay in the backseat under Deacon’s attention.

“Deacon,” you hissed.

“Bad girls don’t get to make a case.”

He pumped in and out, and you spread your thighs wider for him.

You felt the tension build in your stomach; it drove you crazy. You tried to ground yourself further into him, as he braced your hips against him. A whine sounded at the back of your throat, as he pumped faster, trying to coax an orgasm from you.

You were wound up tighter and tighter. Your body contorted, and he pulled his fingers away.

“Deacon, please.”

He leaned back, his cock erect, nested in a tuft of brilliant ginger hair.

“Please what? What do you want from me?”

You set your jaw.

“You know.”

“You want me to fill you up?” he growled, grabbing a leg and tossing it haphazardly onto his shoulder.

“You want me to fuck you, until you come?”

“Please.”

He teased his hardened cock against your slit, before shoving it in. You tensed, the girth of him stretching you - it had been a while.

The last time you had…been intimate, it had been with Nate. You swallowed the lump in your throat. You weren’t her. Not anymore. So you had no reason to be sad, because it had been some other woman at some other time, who had given herself to Nate.

Deacon waited, sensing your adjustment.

“Go.”

“Are you sure? I heard-“

“Go.”

He thrust experimentally, gaging your reaction. You pinched your eyes shut, and took him in, the resistance giving way to delicious friction.

He thrust again.

You arched your back.

He started at a pace that had you bucking at for him to pick it up. He adhered, moving faster, as a sheen of sweat developed on the both of you. You hadn’t felt this good in a long time. You moaned loudly, and he reached up to palm a breast.

“Shit – you’re good.”

You grit your teeth, as he piledrove you into your impending climax.

His thrusts slowed as you clamped around him. His cock twitched, before releasing a thick load of cum into you. Your muscles tightened, not letting him go, the warmth making you ultra-sensitive, and sending you reeling. Your own orgasm came soon after, tensing around his already spent cock. His breathing was heavy as he fell against you, spent, his face in your neck, smelling of sweat and sex.

You felt his hot breath fan over you, and you let your eyes fall shut, not ready to pop the bubble you had created in order to sleep with him, and not feel anything else but Deacon.

Deacon arose first, kissing you on the neck, making your heart twinge, before pulling out, and rolling onto his back. The pair of you lay there, fighting to catch your breath until long after the moon had reached its peak in the sky.

“The Railroad feels like a million lifetimes away after this,” he breathed.

“The Railroad? I haven’t the faintest idea of what you’re talking about.” You murmured. “I’m just a girl from the bar.”


	5. Lay, Sole Survivor, Lay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hancock has his wicked way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted to my Tumblr; tea-petty

It was on nights like these, that the Old State House resembled a scene you might have come across in the Old America. On a brusque winter evening; the night sky, so cold that the dazzling fluorescence of Goodneighbor seemed almost poetic. The windows on the buildings glowed orange, giving you a hint of the warmth and liveliness contained inside.

You entered through the front door, loving the weighty creak of the worn wood beneath your steps. The inside was just as warm as the windows had told you; the spiraling staircase inviting you up. You knew he would be up there; he always was.

You ascended, the dim lighting giving way to the crackling fire in the fireplace, casting red-yellow flickers that danced a tango, casting restless shadows across the room.

Hancock was reclined in front of the cozy fire, in one of the many battered, wooden chairs scattered around the old house. His usual red, coat hanging on the chair back, the dress shirt he usually donned laying crumpled on the couch. You tried not to stare, but it was tough; you had never seen him like this before; his white undershirt clinging to him, forcing you to notice the lean muscle he still packed beneath his radiation ravaged skin. His hat stayed faithfully atop his head, along with the American flag wrapped around his waist, his trousers, and his boots. He lazily took a drag of his cigarette.

“Like what you see, doll?”

You snapped out of your trance, your cheeks warming at being caught. You had planned on being brutally honest with him tonight – it was the exact reason you had shown up. It was foolhardy, and a little ridiculous, a little frivolous, but you felt brave. Bravely honest, and you wanted to chase the feeling while it still existed.

But openly hitting on him wasn’t quite how you wanted this to go.

You cleared your throat, “I uh, actually wanted to talk to you about something.”

“Shoot,” he gestured towards the chair opposite him, with his cigarette. “Get comfy.”

Your heart hammered in your chest as you neared him. You could feel his dark eyes on you, and you tried your hardest to act natural.

“So, what’s on your mind?”

You swallowed, the blood roaring in your ears.

“Well, I – lately I’ve been,…I-“

The words that had been on the tip of your tongue just a few moments before, had failed you now.

I adore you. You’ve changed my life. I don’t want to live a day without you.

It was like his gaze grew more intense, the clumsier your tongue got.

“You know what? I just wanted to say ‘thanks’.” You gushed hurriedly, trying to salvage whatever remaining dignity you had left.

If he had eyebrows, he’d be raising them right now.

“For?”

You shrugged, “Oh, you know, the Finn thing, and the Bobbi thing, and now the traveling together thing.”

You tried to keep your face as passive as possible, as Hancock continued to scrutinize you, not convinced.

“Right,” he finally said, grinning, and leaning back. “I got you. I get exactly what you’re trying to say.”

“That’s great!” your voice sounded shrill, as you were about to stand up again, and retreat - oh dear Atom, why didn’t you just leave already?

Hancock put out his cigarette using the underside of the chair seat before flicking the bud off somewhere, and leaning in.

“But…I have my own piece to say to you.”

You swallowed, “You do?”

“Yeah, my own…’thanks’ to give.”

Your gaze flicked to his. The lowness of his voice drawing you in, his crooked grin, his bareness. It was magnetic. You leaned in, not wanting to miss what came next.

He leaned in further, and you thought he was going to whisper, until he continued to lean in even further. When he paused, he was so close that you could feel his warm breath on your face. Your breathing hitched in your throat, and you couldn’t help but let your gaze flicker to his mouth. It had been such a small peek; so little, you bet he didn’t even notice.

His gaze had trailed the entire movement, and he couldn’t stop himself, for in the next moment his mouth was pressed against yours, those strong, wiry arms you had been admiring, looped around you, pulling you to him with surprising tenderness.

You gasped, as he planted a sequence of lofty kisses, and you couldn’t help but grab onto him, letting him anchor you to this moment, that seemed to send you reeling.

Your hands reached up hungrily, stroking his neck, his jaw, everywhere you could reach – running your soft finger tips gently along the grooves that marred his skin, nearly knocking his hat off in your haste.

He chuckled into the kiss, before pulling back, reaching up to gently stroke your cheek.

“Someone’s excited.”

You blushed darkly at the veiled inuendo.

“Listen, I don’t want to put a stop to this little party of two; but, I’m a flawed guy, and if we don’t stop it here, I’m not sure I’m going to be able to stop.”

His tone was teasing, but the question in his voice was unmistakable.

“I want you,” you sighed, forcing yourself to meet his gaze. “I have wanted you forever,” You hoped your gaze singed him. “I have loved you, forever.”

“Oh sunshine,” he groaned, pulling you back into a heated kiss.

You felt him shift forward but paid it no mind; too enthralled with your confession and the kiss. Then, his hands reached around to wriggle under your butt.

“Hancock!” you squeaked.

He grabbed your ass, fingers splayed, giving a ribbing squeeze, before standing up, and taking you with him. One arm kept you secured to him, while the other hoisted beneath your thigh, you wrapped your legs around him, as his lips found yours again, and he carried you off. Your eyes were shut, but you felt his leg move below you, and heard a door slam shut, and so you knew generally what direction you were heading in. Where this was going. 

The next time he set you down, it was on the bed. You bounced slightly with the impact, as he moved in again, forcing you onto your back. Your breaths came out in heady gasps, as he kissed you, the fever of your arousal rising fast. He slipped his tongue in, and you let your legs wrap around his waist again, securing your bodies together. His hands began to wander, tracing the delicate slop of your curves, palming them eagerly.

“Shit love, you’re gorgeous.”

You felt yourself melt, and feeling confident, you reached for the infamous tricorn hat. Cheekily, you placed it on your own head. He pulled back and looked you over, his lopsided smile telling you he liked what he saw.

“Not bad,” he smirked, “But, I daresay you’re overdressed.”

He leaned down to kiss you again, this time more gently, before moving to your neck. You whimpered, feeling sensitive. Meanwhile, his hands fidgeted with your button down, asking for permission. You blindly reached your hands out to fold over his, pressing his fingers into the buttons. Eagerly, he pried them apart, exposing the supple skin beneath, greeting it with his wet kisses. He reached his hands up to smooth under the fabric that dripped alluringly from your skin. He smoothed his textured palms over the cups of the flimsy bra you wore, before hooking his fingers around the straps, and dragging them down your shoulders.

You blushed again at the sudden exposure, reaching to cross your arms over your chest right as he wrangled the garment off of you.

“Don’t tell me you’re getting’ shy on me all of a sudden.”

He gently pried your arms from their guarded position, before sinking down to nuzzle into one of your breasts.

“You’ve got nothin’ to be shy about, sunshine.”

His mouth latched onto a breast, his tongue teasing your erect nipple as you squirmed beneath him.

“Ah – H-Hancock!”

You felt him smile against your breast, “I’d say we’re on a first name basis by now.”

“J-John,” you moaned, testing it out. It brought a new wave of crimson to your cheeks, and you felt his grip on you tighten.

He placed a playful bite on the underside of a breast, before sinking down to the hem of your trousers. He tugged them down, bringing your panties with them, wasting no time.

“I’ve got big plans for you.” He growled, and you felt your arousal rip through you, pooling between your legs. Easing your trousers completely off, and letting them fall to the floor, he traced your slit with a knuckle, marveling at the wetness that continued to seep out.

“How naughty, have you been soaked this entire time?”

“That’s what you do to me,” you murmured, tossing your head to the side to avoid his prying eyes.

“The highest of compliments.” He plunged a finger into your dripping sex, watching you writhe in pleasure. He gave you a few experimental pumps before removing his fingers and replacing them with his mouth. His lips moved tantalizingly against your lower lips, and you moaned loudly, unable to keep quiet any longer.

“Oh, John!”

He nuzzled into your sex, bracing his thighs against his shoulders. Your body contorted as he used his wicked tongue on you.

“Fuck-“

The wet sounds he made below you were so lewd, so erotic. His mouth brushed against your clit, and you convulsed, a whine sounding from your throat.

He focused on that spot, brushing it, and welcoming your eager rutting against his face.

“Shit sunshine, are you ready for the main event?”

He pulled back, his mouth gleaming wetly before he brought his wrist over it, as he undid the flag at his waist, and tugged his own trousers down.

“Now you’re overdressed,” you purred, gaze flicking to the undershirt that still clung to his sculpted torso, damp with the sweat of sex.

He smirked, “You’re right – my bad.”

He pulled it over his head, tossing it away, and palming his own erect sex, before positioning himself at your entrance. You arched your back at the feel of the fleshy tip pressed against your slick entrance. You ground against him, and he let out a low hiss, trying to resist the urge to shove it in, and thrust away.

He forced himself to enter slowly, savoring the sensation of your tense muscles gripping his cock.

He groaned, and you jostled your hips, urging him forward. He was much obliged. He thrust into you, watching your breasts as the movements jostled them.

“Fuck – you’re tight.”

Your arms lay above your head, useless save for their desperate hold on the sheets. The wet noises of his cock moving in and out of you only making you hotter.

“Yes!”

You bucked into him, intensifying the crash of your bodies together, as he sent both of you hurtling towards orgasm. He bucked roughly into you, and you moved your hands down to palm your own breasts, giving them a rough squeeze, tweaking your nipples.

His dark eyes watched your every move, mesmerized.

The roughness of his thrusts seemed to push you closer and closer to your release, sending you over the edge you had been towing, announced by the tightening of your powerful muscles as they clamped around the ghoul’s cock, trying to milk him for all he was worth.

A choking noise ripped from his throat, and he pinned you, thrusting as deep as he could, throwing your legs over his shoulders, as you tingled numbly below him.

The grooves on his cock seemed to rip your soul from you; extra sensitive in the after glow of your raging climax.

His cock twitched in you, before spurting thick threads of cum into you, filling you. You felt dirty and wet, and so so good. You let out a final desperate moan.

“John!”

He collapsed, struggling to catch his breath for a few moments before finally removing himself from you.

You shuddered at the friction of his sex scraping against your tender insides one last time, curling up for only a few moments until his arms came to wrap around you.

He planted a sweet kiss against your cheek.

“This worked out well for me.”

You scoffed tiredly, “That makes two of us,”

You rolled onto your back, leaving your fingers clasped through his, a lopsided smile on your face.

“Men like you don’t usually notice me.”

He turned to look at you, inquisitive.

“Men like me?”

You turned to meet his gaze, your fatigue making you brave, or at least, too tired to be shy.

“Dangerous, handsome men like you.”

If he had eyebrows, he’d be cocking one.

“Me? Handsome?”

You closed your eyes, and nodded, grinning.

“You just…. exude hotness. You’re just a hot person. I don’t make the rules.”

He snorted, “I’m feeling nice, so I’ll wait until the honeymoon period is over to question your common sense.”

You shrugged, rolling over, your back to him. You scooted back, trying to mold him into the bigger spoon. He folded his arms around you, pulling you to his chest.

You felt his warm breath across your ear, his mouth tickling it, his voice soft and gravelly.

“And for the record, I wouldn’t be able to take my eyes off of you; be it in this life, or the last.”

Your heart stuttered, and your cheeks burned, as the familiar heat lulled you to sleep. You felt your lover’s embrace.


	6. MacCready Fades into the Sole Survivor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The third date and all its expectations.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted to my Tumblr; tea-petty

The conversation had died down, and you peeked at MacCready, who was sitting across the table, through your lashes.

He had that crooked grin you loved so much, his usually harsh features softened; and your heart ached at this rarely seen,  soft side of MacCready.  This wasn’t the first time you had seen this precious side of him; the first time had been on date one, the second on date two, reasonably, and this was…date three.  You were hyperaware of the low-cut dress you were wearing, and the way his eyes lingered on you when he thought you weren’t looking.

The third date was… _the_  date, and as the conversation tapered off into an expectant silence, you were hyperaware of each passing minute, trying to resist the urge to mount MacCready right there and then.

As you were lost in thought, his eyes had wandered over to linger on you again; your soft skin that shone softly in the dim light of the private VIP room in the Third Rail.  Your luscious looking cleavage, which he so desired to run his fingers along.  Your lips, so full and alluring, as if they were just begging to be kissed.  He swallowed, feeling the blood rush south.

“So I-“

“I was just-“

Your cheeks warmed as you both started to speak.

“You can go first,”

“No, you-“

“Really, ladies first.”

You couldn’t help but smile at his gentlemanly streak.

“I just-“

You sighed, trying to control your nerves.

“I know that there are certain…expectations, since this is the…date, the  _third_  date.”

He nodded, urging you on.

“And I just wanted to say, that, there’s no pressure, if you…if you don’t want to, you know.  I’ve had a lovely time tonight, and I plan on going out with you again, and so, I don’t want you to worry about that if you’re not ready to, uh…”

You felt his steady gaze on you and had to look anywhere else.

“Seal the deal.”

He looked at you for a moment, thoughtful.

“Yeah, okay,” he nodded again, running a hand up and down his jaw, mulling it over.

“But…what if I want to?”

You blinked at him.

“Want to what?”

“’Seal the deal’.” He grinned cheekily, and you blushed.

“Well I – I wouldn’t be opposed to that.”

He laughed nervously, “I-I’m glad, because I uh, I actually, reserved a room at the Rexford.”

You gaped at him, “So you  _knew_?”

“I wanted to be prepared!”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the goofy grin that spread across your face.

You stood up, smoothing the skirt of your dress, and offered MacCready your hand, “Shall we?”

He chuckled, reaching for your hand.  “We shall.”

You towed him up the stairs, wondering how often his eyes lingered on your ass.  His fingers twined with yours, he smelled of gunpowder, whiskey, and something you couldn’t quite place.  Cologne? That was a delicacy in the Commonwealth. You couldn’t help but spin around to surprise him with a sweet kiss before giggling and pulling him along to the Rexford.  You hoped he couldn’t notice the juvenile blush that warmed your face; you had only kissed him twice before – both good night kisses.  And if tonight was going to play out the way you hoped, your good night kisses would evolve into  _all night_  kisses.  You felt your arousal coil readily inside you, like a snake.  

MacCready checked in with the front desk, shooting you a knowing glance, and invoking another girlish giggle from you.  The clerk fished the keys out of a drawer before dropping them into MacCready’s waiting hand and watching the two of you disappear for the night.

The second the two of you entered the room, you pressed yourself to him, your lips melding to his, hungrily.  His hands came to rest politely on your waist, but his mouth was anything but.  He met your kisses with his own eager lips, slipping his tongue in to stroke yours to life. You met his challenge enthusiastically, grabbing the lapels of his duster firmly, and pulling him closer, as close as you could physically be.  Your clothing served as an arduous barrier.

MacCready groaned, and the hand that had reached behind to tangle in your hair, to kiss you hard, had dropped down your back, stroking down your spine.  He reveled in the whine that sounded at the back of your throat, as he fumbled with the zipper of your dress.  You smiled abashedly into the kiss, pausing to giggle, your nose pressed against his.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, his finger reaching to tilt your chin up, so that you had to meet his gaze.  He grinned at your sweet blush, and you pinched your eyes shut, lunging forward to press a hard kiss at his mouth.  He chuckled into the kiss, sliding both hands around your back to unzip your dress, sliding the straps down your shoulders with ease.  The luxurious fabric pooled to the floor. You shuddered at the cold, feeling exposed, and MacCready rubbed his hands up and down, as much as he could, half trying to warm you up, and half trying to touch as much of you as he could.

“Ah,  _Robert_ ,”

His grip tightened on you at the sound of his name spilling from your mouth in such a provocative way.

“No bra?” he murmured.

He roughly pulled you to him, smoothing his hands down the length of you, reaching up to tweak your erect nipples, teasing them with the calloused skin of hands, cupping your breasts with his large hands.

You shuddered and leaned onto him.

He hoisted you up, and you wrapped your legs around him as he closed the distance to the bed, dropping you onto it haphazardly and sinking down to maneuver you on your back with a fervent kiss.

You wriggled beneath MacCready, feeling extra exposed while he remained clothed.

“Robert,” you murmured shyly, “Can I…undress you?”

He leaned back as you clambered atop him, starting with the hat he always donned.

You removed it, lovingly running your fingers through his soft hair, before tossing it onto the night stand.

He reached up to knead at your breasts again, earning a light moan, as you tugged his duster off.  His ministrations on your chest paused briefly as you pushed his duster down the lengths of his arms, following with his shirt.  You pressed your hands against his chest, fingers splayed as you reveled in the firm muscles beneath his warm skin, his chest littered with dark, wiry hairs.

Your fingers deafly moved to undo his belt, fidgeting with the buckle as desire clouded your vision, before impatiently popping the button on his trousers, and shoving those down as well.  The large bulge welcoming you through the briefs that clung to his well-muscled butt.

You hooked your fingers in the waistband of his briefs, and tugged those down too, watching as his engorged cock jostled as he stepped out of the fabric that gathered at his ankles.

You readily moved your hands to cover the length of his cock, pumping it as precum oozed from the tip.

“Ngh-“MacCready groaned, his head falling back, before you took the tip in your mouth.

“Ah – “he moaned, which only fired you up more.

“Y-You don’t have to- “

Your tongue teased the tip of his cock, before you tried to take even more of him in your mouth, sinking down on his cock until the tip brushed the back of your throat.

You groaned simultaneously, the vibrations in your throat rattling his cock into a hardened state that was nearly painful.

His cock only seemed to grow hotter and harder under your attention, and you released it with a lewd  _pop_  before it could release into your mouth.

MacCready whimpered.

You looped your arms around his neck, and pulled him down onto the bed with you, so that he was on top.  You spread your legs, instantaneously grinding into him, your coiled arousal growing, the intensity of your arousal washing over you, overwhelming you.

His thick length teased at your entrance, before he eased it in, making a wet noise.  You would have blushed if you weren’t so desperate for the delicious friction. You let your head fall back, and your back arched, as you wrapped your legs around MacCready’s waist.

He thrust into you, and a whine tore form your throat, as you took fistfuls of the sheets, twisting them harshly.

You moaned loudly, desperately.

“ _Scream_  for me.”

You contorted under the impact of his thrusts, each stroke creating a friction that leeched a reverberating warmth into you.

You gasped, as his cock brushed a spot that had you reeling.  Sweet, sweet waves of pleasure shook you, made you clamp your thighs around the man on top of you.  He felt you tense around him, and his cock twitched, overwhelmed by the tightness of your lower lips, and yet, desiring it to be even tighter.

You let your orgasm shake you, you were loud, following MacCready’s directions, screaming his name, writhing beneath him, as he watched your body move, mesmerized.

He buried his face into your breasts as his cock twitched before spilling his thick load into you.

You shuddered at the hot and sticky feeling, clutching him close to you, slick with sweat.  You lay there for a few moments, panting, trying to catch your breath. Sweaty and collapsed in on one another. You had no idea where you ended and he began.

“I-I don’t want to be that guy,” MacCready panted, “But, I, I think I love you.”

You laughed, “That good?”

He sighed, rolling onto his back, pulling out of you. “That good.”

“Well,” you leaned down to kiss his temple, before curling up at his chest, his arms wrapped warmly around you.

“We’ll have plenty of chances to practice, and when you decide, you can tell me when you  _know_  you love me.”

As you lay there, drifting to sleep, he felt his lover’s embrace, and while he wouldn’t tell you until much later, he knew, then and there, exactly how he felt about you.


	7. Do You Mind?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What Nick lacks in...hardware, he makes up for in expertise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted to my Tumblr; tea-petty

Nick had been typing away at his typewriter, late into the buzzing Diamond City night, when you found him.  Probably finishing up with a case.  You smoothed your hands across his shoulders, down the sides of his arms, leaning down to plant a small kiss behind his ear.

“Nicky, come to bed with me.” You murmured.

He tapped away for a few moments before leaning back, reaching his good hand up to wrap around you, skimming his nose up your jaw.

“I’m just finishing up doll, I’ll be there in a few minutes.”  

You pressed your lips to his, “Okay!”

Before disappearing up the stairs and nestling into the blankets on the bed you shared.  He technically didn’t need to sleep, but it had become habitual for the two of you to convene at the end of the day; you would sleep, he would lay with you curled on his chest, watching you sometimes, or doing system updates. He adored the peaceful ritual.

When he appeared at the top of the stairs, he could see you were already in bed; clad only in a slightly oversized t-shirt, and a pair of panties, your limbs sprawled out luxuriously, your hair fanned out around your head like a halo.

“Well, don’t you paint a pretty picture?”

You propped yourself up by your elbows, your legs crossed at the knees, one-foot dangling flippantly in the air.  

“I can do you one better than a picture.”

Nick hesitated, if he could have blushed, he would have.  You watched him watch you, his golden gaze lingering at the curve of your ass, not completely constrained by your panties.  That was certainly one way to get the coolant pumping.

He cleared his throat, and took a few steps closer, you rose eagerly to meet him, shifting to kneel on the bed.

“What are you planning?”  Nick asked skeptically.

“Who, me?  Nothing at all…”

You slyly ran your hands up his white dress shirt, grabbing his tie, before pulling him down on top of you.  Startled, he reached his hands to brace themselves on either side of your head, caging you in.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were up to no good.”

You wrapped your legs around his waist, bringing him closer.  “Tell me Nick – how can  _this_  be no good?”

You pulled him into a heated kiss, sliding your tongue in, as he gently buried himself in you, his hands gently slid down your body, and you moaned.  He pulled back, your breathing heavy.

“ _Nick,”_  you groaned.

“Doll, you know I – I don’t have the…hardware for the trouble you’re looking to get in,” he murmured, sounding sad.  You opened your eyes to look at him, the place where his eyebrows would be, knitting together worriedly.

You reached up to rest a palm on the side of his face, on the damaged side of his face.

“I want you as you are, hardware be damned.”

He pulled you back into a kiss, moving his lips against you fervently, tasting distinctively Nick.

You pushed his signature trench coat from his shoulders, letting it fall to the floor.  You smoothed your hands over his chest, and you felt him flinch slightly upon brushing against the button of his white dress shirt.  His own hands on you were by no means still, having smoothed over your arms, and back, stroking up your sides.  You gasped as he palmed your breasts through the fabric of your shirt. Your arousal pooled between your legs, and you impatiently dragged the thin material of the shirt above your head, discarding it.  Nick swooped down to kiss you hard, pinning you now, his leg spreading your thighs, his hands descending on your breasts.  His good one squeezing and kneading, his wiry one gently teasing the supple flesh, brushing against your stiff nipples.

You arched your back and ground yourself into the knee that was wedged between your thighs.

“Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?”

You blushed, unable to meet his intense, yellow eyes.  You reached up, angling your fingers through the loop of his tie, pulling, releasing it from its knot.

His ministrations slowed as he became apprehensive. Seldom did he undress at all; and it was never under the scrutiny of someone else.

You pulled, letting the tie fall to the floor too. You pressed your nose against his, planting a gentle kiss on the corner of his mouth as he froze, watching as you undid the buttons of his white dress shirt.  One at a time, button by button, consistent, like a march.

You exposed more of the smooth fiberglass, white leading to more white.  You ran your hands gently across his chest.  He watched you discover him, as you pushed the garment to the floor, adding to the growing pile.  

“You’re not so bad yourself, Valentine.”

He chuckled, bringing a hand up to cup your face, as you pressed yourself against him.  You kissed like that for a few moments, content, before you pulled back, sending him a sheepish smile.

“I’ll be honest, I don’t really know how to proceed from here…”  Your cheeks warmed.

He grinned, “I’ve got it from here, doll.”

He dipped a good finger in the waist band of your panties and dragged them down the length of your legs.  You clamped your thighs together, suddenly feeling vulnerable; this was new territory for you and Nick.  You knew he may not have…needs the way you did, but you also knew he seemed to garner some sense of pleasure from touching you, seeing as how enthusiastically he did so.  However, you weren’t sure how he’d react to some of the…gory physical details that were inevitable byproducts of sex.

He squeezed your plush hips comfortingly.

“Playing hard to get now?” he teased.

“I can’t please you the same way you can please me, so I don’t want you to feel like you have to – not when I can’t…reciprocate in some way…” you admitted.

Nick reached behind you to scoot you closer, pressing his forehead against yours.

“I may be built differently from other men, but that doesn’t mean I’m not going to enjoy what I’m about to do to you.”

His voice was low, husky against you.  You were suddenly overwhelmed by how much you loved this man – so much you could let it carry you away.  So much, you thought you might die, and if you did, it’d be fine, because you loved this man so much, and he loved you too.  

You let him ease your thighs apart, before he used  _that_  hand and wriggled it into your dripping sex.

You whimpered, as you felt slick metal scrape at your sides, digging around to tease at the sensitive flesh.  The harsh metal against your clit sent you jolting from pleasure, each small touch shocking you with the sheer bliss it radiated through you.  He watched you as he jerked his hand around your sex, wetness seeping out and adding to the wet cacophony of sounds.

“Ah – Nick!”

His eyes singed you, the image of your writhing body burned into his memories, as he touched you; he was a musical prodigy, and you were the world’s most finely tuned instrument, responding instantaneously to the slightest shifts in pressure.  The coil of tension in you grew larger, and you spread your legs wider, racing towards your impending release.

He changed out his ruined hand, for his other one, trying to add girth now that you were slick.  He slipped two fingers inside, feeling the way your tightness stretched to accommodate him.  If he had…been endowed, it would’ve been thicker than this.  Should he try for a third?  Your convulsing body told him you didn’t mind anyhow.

He pumped faster, trying to expand the growing tension in you to warm every nook and cranny in your body.

Your toes curled and you threw your head back, whining, your climax on the horizon.

Experimentally, Nick added a third finger, and you whimpered at the feel of him filling you.  He reached his thumb up to brush your clit as he began getting rougher with his pumps.  You arched your back again, trying to push yourself into his movements.

You moaned at the change in angle, as he reached a spot you hadn’t known had existed before.

Nick noticed your sensitivity and pumped faster, sending you swiftly to your orgasm.  Nick didn’t cease his attention on you, as he watched you come undone. You clamped tightly around his fingers, and groaned as he pushed through your tense muscles, the resulting friction hypnotic.  Your body was damp with sweat, and you seemed to glow; the heady combination of sweat and a warm flush absolutely striking on you.  

“Nicky,” you whined, softly as he removed his fingers.

He moved to curl around you on the bed, wrapping his arms around you.  The cool surface of him feeling soothing in the feverish aftermath of sex.

“It’ll be hard to get those images out of my head, for a while.” He grinned, nuzzling into your hair, and breathing in your scent.

“Mind in the gutter?”  you smiled sleepily, listening to the comforting  _whir_  beneath his chest.

“After that, good luck getting me  _out_.”

He drew the blankets around you, cradling you to his chest, and you drifted to sleep, feeling your lover’s embrace.


	8. French Kiss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Sole Survivor educates Piper in a pre-war colloquialism.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted to my Tumblr; tea-petty

You and Piper lay in your shared bed, the alarm clock on the nightstand reading roughly 3:32 in the morning.  Her place in Diamond City was dark now, and quiet, but neither of you were sleeping.  Piper was laying on her back, staring straight up, her gaze faraway, her mouth quirked into a frown, one arm unceremoniously thrown above her head.   You lay curled at her side, one of your arms loosely resting across her waist.

“Pipes,” you murmured, breaking her trance.

“Are you alright?”

She shifted to face you, comfortably, a lock of her dark hair falling across her tired face as she did so.  Gently, you pushed it from her face, tucking it behind her ear.

“Yeah Blue, I’m good. It’s just-“ Piper hesitated, and you skimmed the back of your hand lightly across the expanse of her jaw.

“I tried to expose McDonough for what he was, for…God, I don’t even know how long.  I got death threats, I was locked out of the city, no one  _believed_  me and now we find that…it was true.”

Piper sighed.

“I think I was so use to being told I was wrong, that after a while, it almost felt like I was.  If it hadn’t come out when it did, I don’t know how much longer I would have been able to keep going.  What if I had stopped?  What if he got away with it?”

The hand that was thrown across her waist rubbed soothing circles into her arm.

“But you didn’t stop, and he didn’t get away with it.”

Piper shifted, turning so that she could lay nose to nose with you.

“Yeah, I just – Christ, I never thought this day would come.”

“So, what are you going to do now?”

Piper’s mouth quirked into a small smile, “I guess what I always do – only with you; I’m sure there’s no shortage of secrets to uncover in the Commonwealth.”

“Or trouble to get in,” you added.

Piper laughed, “Yeah Blue, that too.”

It was quiet for a few moments, you could feel the warmth that radiated from Piper’s curled form beside you.  Her dark curls tossed around her head in her sleeplessness, her hazel eyes haunting, cast under the cold absence of light in the room. You leaned forward without thinking, some part of you knowing exactly what you were doing.  The most immediate part of you though, leaned forward too – anxiously awaiting to see what happened next.  Piper shuffled closer to you, gazes locked – trying not to think of the distance the two of you would rapidly be closing.  Then her lips were on yours, and you were hungrily pressing yourself to her, crashing together in a mess of soft skin, and sleep tousled hair.  She tasted like cherries and cigarettes; a taste so uniquely Piper – you wondered what on earth contributed to the sweet taste. You couldn’t get enough, and you slipped your tongue in.  Piper groaned, before rolling over so that she was on top of you.  You threaded your fingers through her hair, holding it away as she kissed you fervently.  Your hands knit together at the back of her head, holding her to you, as her arms braced on either side of you.  In this proximity, there was no scandal, no room, no Commonwealth – just you and her, and this careful fire you had started tending.  You teased her bottom lip with your teeth gently as she pulled away.

“What’s on your mind?”

“Forget Commonwealth, I know plenty of trouble we can get into right  _here_.”

You brought her mouth to yours again, sliding your hands from her hair to smooth over her shoulders and slide down the back of her undershirt.

She sighed into the kiss, as you kneaded at her tense muscles.  She slumped against you, her weight on you growing your desire as you became hyperaware of every delicious bit of her body, flush against you.

You pulled your hands from her shirt, returning to tug at the fabric gently – asking for permission. Piper pulled back to lift her arms so that you could swiftly remove her shirt, before she planted a dizzying kiss against you, and you did the same, letting her remove the large t-shirt you used as pajamas.  You descended upon each other again, her hands running down your body, taking in every detail she could – the slopes of your curves, the heated flush that danced across your skin.  Typical Piper; a glutton for raw detail.  You focused your hands to gently palm her breasts, letting your thumbs reach up to brush gently across her sensitive nipples, watching them harden under your ministrations.  

Piper moaned, and she twisted her fingers in your hair, tugging, and forcing your face up, as she swooped in to plant a series of desperate kisses on your neck, nipping and leaving marks with that wicked mouth of hers.  Her hands slid down to grip your ass through your panties, squeezing roughly and earning a small yelp from you.  She jerked her hands forward, sending you falling back onto the bed, with a few bounces for good measure.  Your heart leapt to your throat, at the gutsy gesture – this was the confidence of a woman who knew what she was doing, and you were excited at the other nuances that would arise in her playful lovemaking.

Taking advantage of your dazed state, she hooked two lithe fingers through the elastic of your panties, before dragging them down the length of your legs.

“Piper!” you gasped, as she scooted in to anchor your thighs to her shoulders, before latching her mouth onto your dripping sex. You moaned, writhing beneath the hypnotic waves of pleasure she sent through you.  Each wave seemed to coil the tension within you tighter, stretching it tauter.  You idly wondered how much more stretching could be done before it snapped. Her tongue worked you methodically, drawing?  No…writing?  Focusing on the movements of her tongue was hard when your body seemed to commandeer it. Through the foggy haze of your desire, you could barely make out the letters;  _B-L-U-E_.

She had to plant your hips firmly down on the bed, as want drove them up.  Your arousal grew under her attention to your lower lips, you could feel your muscles twitch hotly when she removed her tongue, frantic for relief.

“You’re really good with that mouth of yours, “you murmured feverishly.

Piper smirked, “I’ve been told I have the gift of gab, this mouth has gotten me out of many sticky situations.”

“Well, now it’s gotten me  _into_  one.”

She wriggled out of her shorts, and you knew the best part was to come.  You marveled at her softness, her thick thighs, and tantalizingly plush hips.

“Sit on my face.”

She raised an eyebrow at you, and you met her gaze.

Upon seeing the seriousness of the want in your eyes, she clambered over you, shifting so that she straddled your face. You shut your eyes, ran your tongue agonizingly slow across her entrance, skillfully maneuvering your tongue around her dripping sex.  Piper was grateful your face was preoccupied, so you couldn’t see the crimson blush that stained her cheeks.  Her musky overtook your nostrils, as you buried yourself in her; so erotic it made you squirm.  This did not go unnoticed by Piper, who reached over to slide her fingers against your slit.  You spread your thighs, letting her add to your growing pleasure.  Bucking against her touch, as she rode you.  Your hands braced against her ass, keeping her firmly seated on you, squeezing the supple flesh, as you felt two fingers enter you. A fresher jolt of pleasure shot through you as she entered you, and you felt your desire jolt with it, almost thrown over the steep edge of your impending climax.

She gasped, and you felt her lurch above you, only making you wetter.  You felt your body contort with pleasure, and the tension mounted; you were close.

You felt her tense above you, and there was a sudden gush of wetness, which you readily lapped up.  Your own release wasn’t far behind, the slickness of your sex allowed Piper to pump at you faster, dragging your orgasm from the copse of your body. Your body jerked as your orgasm sent you spinning, as Piper’s body kept you pinned, only making you more sensitive to your tumultuous orgasm.

You were still buzzing from the warmth of your release as Piper dismounted you.  You swiped a wrist across your mouth, as Piper drew the covers up around the both of you.  She held it up to her chest, using her other hand to reach for the carton of cigarettes on the table.  You grinned at the speed in which Piper managed to obtain a post-coital cigarette. She was a walking ‘60’s trope.   She stuck one between her lips, before reaching for the lighter and illuminating the little stick.

She took a long drag, leaning back, her eyes shut; she looked the most relaxed you had seen her in several days.

You scooted up into a sitting position, holding the blanket up to your chest in a similar fashion, the length of your arm warming the length of Piper’s.  She peeked an eye open, grinning, before passing you the cigarette.  You captured the stick between your index and middle finger, planting a sweet kiss on Piper’s cheek as the exchange took place, before giving the cigarette a little puff.

“Trouble, indeed.”


	9. No Diggetty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gage lets himself have a lapse in judgement.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted to my Tumblr; tea-petty

Gage had never been one for words – more often than not he found that cowards used them to stall.  Moreover, they were tricky, which was ironic, since they were made for communication, and yet people buried ulterior motives beneath clever turns of phrase.  Gage preferred actions; after all actions spoke louder than words, or at least that’s what people said, right?  His acting from behind the scenes had been what kept Nuka-World brimming with potential for the three raider factions that resided in it – not the next hot-blooded, thick-skulled, psycho-flavor of the week who waltzed in and claimed themselves the Overboss.  He had brought each power struggle to fruition and to a close himself – and he didn’t need some stupid title to do it.  Point in case – words were frivolous, and Gage hated such things.

That’s why he found himself so frustrated on his long fall for you.  All these weird, feelings tossing him and turning him in the peak of the night, numbing his reasoning, teasing his focus – and where words failed him the most.  How could he tell you the feelings that had no name?  How could he communicate to you his intentions when words just failed him?

The opportunity to show you had come as suddenly and intensely as a flash food, breaking the dam that had carefully constrained all the feelings he associated with you, the moment you had reached up to rest a flirtatious hand against his chest.  His heart seemed to thump so violently, he had half a mind that you could feel it, pattering foolishly beneath your fingertips.

“Boss, you and I – we can’t happen.”   _…because I’d be no good for you._

Gage swallowed nervously, gently plucking your wrist up, and dropping it back to your side.

“Oh, c’mon now Gage,” your voice was soft, your lips pouting cutely – something they only ever did with enough liquor in your system. You peeked at him through your lashes, the unshed tears of your drunken melancholy beading on them.

“Am I really so bad?”  you murmured.

You had meant to reach for him but in your current state, your balance had seemingly jumped ship, and so you fell into him.  He steadied you easily, and you noticed the warm, strong muscles of his arms.  You swallowed, hyperaware of the excited rise and fall of your chest.  Your fingers dug into the flesh of his arms, not able to bring yourself to let go.

You were ashamed; a quiet voice at the back of your head – the voice of your sobriety scolded you;  _Pathetic. If you really loved him, you wouldn’t burden him like this, now would you?_   You kept your gaze on the ground, half ashamed, half waiting for the voice to continue.

“…It’s not you.”

You had almost missed it.  Your head jerked up to look at him.

“What?”

Gage cleared his throat, “I said, it’s not you. It’s not that you’re bad – you’re not, not at all.”

You were hanging on every word, in your frantic dissection of his answer, you had levied yourself closer to him.  Your hands now rested on his shoulders, your chest was slightly pressed to his, and you had to tilt your head up further, to avoid having a conversation with his strong, stubbly chin.

“So…”  you tilted your head up even further; lips first now.

Gage’s head tilted down slightly, nose to nose with you, his lips a mere few millimeters from your own.

“You may not be so bad, but, I might be.”

You closed your eyes, and let yourself lean in, open to whatever damage he could do.  In the next instance, he pulled you close, pressing your lips to yours fervently, groaning in rapture.  His lips pushed yours open as he masterfully slipped his tongue in.  You moaned, your hands gripping him, as you felt your knees weaken.  All it had taken was a kiss from him, and you were undone.  Just as you felt you might melt right off him, those strong hands you loved so much pressed to your waist, sliding around to grab your ass firmly, squeezing playfully before hoisting you up.  You wrapped your legs around his waist enthusiastically.

You felt him move, you heard him kick a door open, and then shut; you felt like you were traveling at warp speed, his lips sending you flying.  He dropped you unceremoniously on his bed, and you realized this had been the first time you had been on it – you didn’t have a ton of time to marvel at this fact though, because Gage was suddenly pushing you back onto the bed roughly.  His artless gestures seemed to stir the arousal that had started to coil in your gut.  Eagerly, you cupped his face in your hands, kissing him with vigor.  You squeaked when you felt his teeth tease your bottom lip, and his domineering grip came to force your hands away from his face, reaching them up to pin them above your head.  You arched your back, trying to squirm enough to free yourself – not really disliking it, but rather, excited by this dangerous challenge.  He wouldn’t budge as his lips forced yours open again, and he wedged himself between your legs.  You writhed violently again, this time arching your back to grind yourself into his knee, gasping as you felt the crotch of your shorts dampen.

One hand remained to keep yours pinned securely, before the other reached down to slide under your shirt, as his lips moved to your neck.  He bit harshly, and you yelped, as his tongue lavished the red marks in soothing strokes. He shoved your shirt up, so that it rode up, above your breasts.  He hooked a thick finger up to tug your bra down, leaving yourself semi-exposed.  He scooted down to latch onto one of your stiff nipples, and you moaned, your skin sensitive to every ounce of friction your clothing tore from your skin.

You squirmed, trying to rub your thighs together in a way that would alleviate some of the desperate want that burned through you. Gage towered between your legs, refusing to let you get off that easily.  He nipped sharply at your sensitive bud, and you jerked against him, crushing him to you, which only intensified his crude ministrations.  You tried to rut against him, but he only shoved you forcefully back against the bed.

“Hey now,” he growled.

The husky edge to his voice only made you more willing to push his buttons – see which one would get him to fuck you with the same angry nuances.  

Leaving your breasts exposed lewdly, he slid both hands down to snag the waistband of your shirts and panties, which he yanked off of you, before prying your legs apart.  You flinched, bracing yourself as his finger circled your slick entrance. You were surprised with the tenderness he eased his finger in with; his kisses remained scalding, and harsh on your sensitive skin, but his finger in your sex was anything but – nimble, and quick, but always gentle.  

“A-Ah, Gage!”

He pressed his mouth against your breast again, sucking roughly, leaving another hickey.  You watched helplessly as he marked you several more times, while consistently driving you towards the release you craved.

His fingers pumped you, dragging you closer to orgasm with each movement.  You arched your back, only to feel his hold disappear from you.  You watched as he popped the zipper on his trousers, sliding the zip down, and freeing his rigid cock.  You let your hands fall artlessly on either side of your head, twisting fistfuls of the sheets as he prodded your entrance with his thick tip.  You hissed in pleasure, as he eased it inside of you, your tight muscles adjusting to his girth.  

His arms reached up to pin your shoulders, as he pulled back until just his tip was embedded in you, before slamming into you, to the hilt.  You shuddered into him, the terse sting giving way to startling pleasure.  Your arms flew up to wrap around Gage, your nails digging into him, reflecting the pleasure he inflicted on you with a sharpness he could feel through the fabric of his wife-beater.  He groaned as your aching wetness tensed around him.  A few thrusts in, he grunted, startled at how good you felt around him.  Suddenly, he felt ashamed; this wasn’t the first time he saw you like this – it was the first time he did so outside the privacy of his fantasies.

He watched your body shake under the impact of his violent momentum.  The sight of you – sweaty, unraveled in his arms, your supple skin flushed against him, and contorted because of him, was almost enough to make him cum right there.

A few more pumps in, and he was there – you clenched around him, feeling the way his cock twitched readily in response, before spurting molten, ropes of cum into you.  Your powerful muscles milked him, clamping down tightly, before your own climax gushed. Wetness slid from you, and you felt strangely vulnerable, in your haphazardly dressed, soggy state.  The room smelled like sex, and Gage had collapsed onto you, sweaty and out of breath, his face buried in your neck.

You decided to shut your eyes and wait for him to make the first move; decidedly to tired to care if sleeping in your disarray is what you ended up doing.  However, a few moments later, he removed himself from you, and disappeared.  You felt empty without him, and you drunk poignancy came barreling back.  You sighed and kept your eyes pinched shut, jolting as you felt something brush against your over sensitive lower lips.  A towel?

You flinched and felt cold as the feeling of your clothes leaving your body prevailed.  He removed your shirt and bra first, gently massaging the indents the pressing garments had left in his hastily done undressing job.  You felt a blush heat your skin; you could see him now, his gaze studying you, scrutinizing you, perceptive, astute, now that he was not rushed.  You felt warmth envelop you again, but it lacked the scratchiness of the blankets. You felt a few wiry hairs when you focused – his arms?  You peeked your eyes open, his arms encircling you, your face buried against his chest – unable to see his face.

Your breathing hitched nervously, which did not go unnoticed by him.

“Boss?”

Your throat felt tight, and you hated yourself for crying – sober you was much more collected.  But alas, sober you was not here right now.

“I didn’t want to be this.”  Your voice sounded tight.

“I didn’t want to be just a drunken fuck for you.” You tried to make it sound tough, angry – but your tension was misguided, and so it came out strangled and sad.

He didn’t answer, and you had to force yourself not to bury yourself in him, as hot tears streamed down your face.

“Is that what you think this was?”

His voice, gravelly and rough, reflected your own sadness.

“Guess I really do have to use my words then.”

You sniffled and didn’t look at him.

“My feelings for you…well, I suppose that’s my point; I  _have_  feelings for you.  Of the, non-subordinate sort.”

You hiccupped.  Sober you would have been over the moon at Gage’s rawness.  Drunk you was too spacey to decipher this.

“I mean, I’ve kissed you with tongue, and I’d like to do it again,” he pressed.

You blinked at him.

”And  _more.”_

You flushed, kind of getting it.

“O-oh?”

He sighed, aggravated.

“I’m saying I want you.  I want you and I’ll never hurt you; never leave you, so long as you’ll have me.”

Your forehead thunked against his chest, concealing the brilliant crimson that painted your cheeks.  

“Always.” You murmured sleepily, sliding your arms between his and his torso, wrapping tightly around him.  Good luck getting rid of you now.  But he didn’t try – wouldn’t even think of it.  His arms curled warmly around you, as a soft snore sounded from your still form.  His heart twinged at the cute honesty of the sound, and as he himself began to drift off to sleep – more peacefully than he had in a while – he felt his lover’s embrace.


	10. Preston is one Sexy MF

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Preston relieves the Sole Survivor in more than one way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted to my Tumblr; tea-petty.

You were lounging on the couch in the dilapidated skeleton of the house down from the one you had shared with your spouse, prewar. Tonight, had been the first night in a long while since you had the opportunity to just sit down and unwind, but an idle mind could easily give way to worry, and under the dim glow of rusted lamp light, and the night air that swirled in and out of its own accord, you felt the pull of loneliness towards your old house; seeping into the empty space that had opened up.

You were grateful when a familiar silhouette loomed in the doorway; minimizing some of the space.

“General?”

“Hey Preston,” you said weakly, already drained from the rush of emotion that had decided to sweep in.

“Want some company?”

You gestured to the spot on the opposite end of the couch.

“Please.”

Your eyes followed him as he came to join you, perching at the end of the couch.  His strong posture, the steep slope of his shoulders.  Then suddenly there were two; the two of you, sitting in low light, quiet.

“Are you alright?” he asked suddenly, his eyes concerned, under the brim of his trademark minutemen hat.

You hesitated – on one hand, brushing off the grief you hadn’t had time to process had worked pretty well up until this point, and on the other hand, you knew that it was unreasonable to believe you could put off these feelings forever.

“Yeah, it’s just strange – the Sanctuary you sought for the group after Concord used to be  _my_  Sanctuary.”

“Right – you used to live here.”

You nodded, “Before the bombs dropped.  I lived there with my son and,” you swallowed, “and my husband.”  You set your gaze on the dark house down the street – it was strangely fitting that no one had yet claimed it in this new Sanctuary.

“You miss him.”  Preston didn’t ask – it was a statement of fact.

You nodded again, your throat feeling thick, and your eyes burning with the threat of imminent tears.

“Everyday, but…maybe not the way people think.”

Preston looked at you curiously, “What do you mean?”

“I…. loved Nate – so much.  But we weren’t married long; we got married because he was drafted, and I was alone most of my pregnancy because he was at war.  We were supposed to…start our lives together when he got back.  We were supposed to grow together, and grow  _old_  together, but then the bombs dropped, and while I love and miss him terribly, I think more than that, I miss…the potential.   I miss having someone so involved in my life; a teammate, I guess.”

Your heart throbbed raggedly, your vulnerability ripping open the old wounds with an almost sadistic reverence.  

You could feel Preston’s gaze on you; almost taste the pity in it.

“I know it’s not the same, but you’re not alone.  The minutemen – we’re your team.   _I’m_  on your team.”

You propped your arm on the back of the couch, resting your head on it to shoot a warm side glance Preston’s way.  Preston’s arm was casually draped along the back of the couch.  Your arm dropped in a similar fashion, and while your heart hammered as his long fingers reached to brush softly against yours, you had known it was coming.  Had welcomed it.  Neither of you mentioned it, both of you seemed content to pretend that it was the most natural thing in the world – an unspoken truce made with respect to the amalgam of feelings that lurked within you.

Your heart seemed to go into override, and you fought the heated blush that burned through you.

“I’m…not sure, how whole I am.”  You said quietly – this muted honesty the most you could give him right now.

“I don’t know if I am either.” His mouth quirked up into a small smile.  “But, I bet if we pooled our resources, we would get pretty close.”

The steely grip on your heart seemed to relax, and you realized you hadn’t felt this close to anyone since Nate.  This baring of weakness – it had been Nate the last time you had resigned to leaning on someone for this sort of support.  You reminisced this intimate relationship, sacred, almost ritualistic save for habit, for it was not something you did often or lightly.

This only seemed to pull you in – the ache for this bond made you shuffle closer.  You tried not to cling, but it had been  _months_.

Preston watched as you shuffled closer, intrigued. He watched you blink at him earnestly, almost apologetic, before placing your hands on both sides of his face and pulling him in to press your lips against his.  He was surprised – you could feel it against you; his initial reluctance to kiss you back, the cautious way he reached his arms to wrap around your waist, gently pulling you to him.

You gasped, and continued to move your lips against his, shifting to straddle him.  

You felt his breathing grow heavier and had to bury the urge to groan at the feeling of his hardening shaft against your crotch.

Gently, he planted you to his lap, and pulled away, the feverish desire in his eyes dulled by concern.

“Is this okay? – Are you okay?” he murmured, brushing a hand softly against your hair.

“Preston,” you pressed your nose to his, “I think we can do better than okay, tonight.”

He let you return to kissing him, slipping his tongue in as you eagerly rolled your hips against his.  You moaned into him, sliding your hands to wrap around his, and urging him to press harder against you.  He let you guide his hands along the slope of your body.

“You’re sad.”  He murmured

“I am,” you agreed, not ceasing your wanting touches.

“I-I don’t want to take advantage of that,” his voice was respectful; a gentleman, as Preston always was, though the bulge in his pants said otherwise.

“I want you,” you breathed.

“You want someone.”

“No, I want you.” You steeled yourself.  Sure, you were lonely, you’d admit that.  But Preston was…he was the first dose of home you had in this strange, new world.  The first person to show you humanity and afforded you kindness in a starved, broken place.

“Y-You think that,” his voice wobbled, you could tell his resistance was wavering.

“No, I’m sure,” you tugged him closer, letting his gaze to bore into his, “I want  _you.”_

You smothered his protests with your fervent kisses, gently knocking his hat from his head.  He sighed into you, and your arousal pooled between your legs.   You pushed his duster from his shoulders, going for the buttons on his ornamental vest.  Your kisses were insistent, you willed him to believe that you wanted him, as strongly as you had. His hands; previously still, respectfully confined to your waist, had started to search beneath the hem of your shirt.  You rolled your hips against him again, encouraging him.

He tentatively reached under your shirt, sliding his warm hands up below you sternum, before coming down again.  You pulled your shirt over your head impatiently, ignoring the surprise at your abrupt action, before stifling the vague embarrassment you felt with another heated kiss.  You nipped at his bottom lip, reveling in the deep moan he let out.   _He wants you_ , you forced any insecurities you had, down.  You slipped his scarf from his neck before going for his button down.

Your fingers smoothed over the exposed expanse of his chest, and the heat from his skin only served to encourage you, as he tenderly placed his fingers on your breasts, cupping you through your bra. When you had pushed his button down from his shoulders, he reached behind you, fidgeting with your bra clasp.

“Are you okay with this?”

“Yes,” you arched into his touch as the garment released from his chest.

He seemed reluctant to bury himself in your supple skin.

“Touch me,” you murmured, as his hands smoothed over your stiff nipples, sending waves of desperate want through you. He gave you an obedient squeeze and you moaned.  His hands gently massaged and tweaked at the supple flesh, his ministrations earning whimpers of pleasure from you.

“Please, Preston-“  

His kisses remained soft on you, reassuring you – you could tell he wanted you, but he didn’t want to take a thing.

You pressed yourself to him, popping the button on his trousers, before pulling at the zip, and freeing his cock.  He gasped, a little taken aback by your forwardness. You tugged your own bottoms off, pausing when his fingers reached to hook the waistband of your panties.

“You’re gorgeous, you know that, right?” he murmured, dragging the garment from your legs luxuriously.  As if he would never do anything more important to anything more glorious.

Your heart twinged, and you let your hair curtain your face from his admiring gaze.  

You ground against him, and he returned his hands to your hips, making sure he could steady you, as you lifted yourself to ease his throbbing cock inside of you.

You bucked your hips, feeling the thick girth of him jostle inside of you, and moaning from the sensation it caused.

“Oh Preston-“

His own hips jerked up, bouncing you on top.

“You’re so tight.”

Almost on cue, your powerful muscles tensed at that, clamping around him.  You let yourself ride him, hands splayed on his chest, feeling the motion of his torso as it flung you closer to your impending orgasm.  You felt wild and adventurous, riding this man, letting him see you unabashedly, yet his grip kept your safely pinned to him, letting him anchor you through the storm you were weathering.

“Please-“ you whined, as his thick cock spread you repeatedly, the coil in your abdomen tightening.

Preston let himself bounce you vigorously but was careful to be gentle – if it had been completely up to him, he would have taken you to dinner first, confessed his feelings over dessert, and ended the evening with a single goodnight kiss, before trying for hot and heavy later. But right now, if this is what you needed, he figured he’d be a fool to pass up the opportunity that crept in his every fantasy.

You noticed his orgasm first; as the tip of his cock tightened inside your wetness, twitching against your powerful walls, before oozing thick essence inside of you.  Your own climax followed closely behind.

“Preston!” you groaned, milking him, clenching against the wetness. You collapsed on him, damp with sweat and struggling to catch your breath.

You felt his hand wander up the back of the couch, and he shot up, startled.

“Preston?”

“You don’t have blankets?” his hand emptily searched the back of the couch again, for some trace of excess fabric.

“I do, “you cocked your head to the side, “In my room, on the bed.”

In the next moment, he had scooped you up, and carried you there, much to your embarrassment. Preston wouldn’t have it – the man inside him, the one who do desperately wanted to be what you needed,  _couldn’t_ allow it.

He set you down gently on the bed, drawing the covers close around you, before kicking the remainder of his pants off, and wrapping his arms around you.  He spooned you, silently, your warm back the perfect wall to speak into; private enough for him to be comfortably honest, and yet, discrete enough for you to be able to escape.

“Thank you,” he murmured.

His fingers traced your jugular, and you let your eyes fall shut, curled up in his arms, feeling safe and able to sleep through the night for the first time since arriving at the Commonwealth, in the warm glow of your lover’s embrace.


	11. Memories Will Have to Do

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> X6 is interested in exploring the different aspects of physical intimacy that often accompany romantic relationships.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted to my Tumblr; tea-petty

It had been a couple of weeks since you had professed your love to him.  A couple of weeks since, you had stammered out the nature of your bleeding heart, and since he had coolly accepted your feelings in typical X6 fashion.  But past that, any evidence that he reciprocated your feelings were virtually non-existent – your comfortable habit of roaming the Commonwealth as a do-gooder, had remained exactly that; habitual.  His voice remained as professional as ever when addressing you, and he didn’t touch you – something you didn’t want to admit disappointed you greatly.  You had begun to think he hadn’t been interested after all…

Then he had approached you; it had been a cozy night in the house you had shared – by default, even before you had officially started seeing each other.  You had been curled up on the bed, trying hard to sleep while you could, before sensing a leveled gaze on your back.  You shifted so that you were now facing the doorway of the room, unsurprised to see X6 lingering against the doorframe.  

“X6?” you sat up, rubbing the sleep from your eyes.

“Is something wrong?”

“I…have a question.”

Hesitation?  That was odd for him.

“Sure,” you agreed, apprehensive at his own tentativeness.  

“Well, it’s more of a request I suppose.”

You nodded, urging him on.

“We’re…in a relationship now, right?”

Your cheeks warmed at his admission, “Yes, I believe so.”

“And, I…don’t know how to do that – it’s not something you learn from the Institute.  But, there’s something I want to try, and I think people who are…close, do this.  Close the way two people romantically involved are, and the sort of close I’d like to be with you.”

It was dark, but you could’ve sworn you saw a hint of pink in X6’s own cheeks.

“Are you…?”

“I…would like to try engaging in physical intimacy with you, as we are now in a relationship.”

Your mouth quirked into an awkward smile as your cheeks warmed further.

“X6…you don’t need to feel…pressure.  We can wait on that stuff if…you’re not ready.  These things take as long as they take – there’s no rushing it.”

“I – assure you this is something I want.”

His answer came so quickly, that you couldn’t bring yourself to fight it anymore.

He came in, sitting on the edge of your bed.  You folded your legs to give him more room.  For a few moments, the two of you sat there uneasily, unsure of how to start.  You felt clinical, and a little bit nervous. This was something X6 was new to, and yet, you had been so eager for physical intimacy that you had readily agreed to something you weren’t one hundred percent sure he’d even like.

He was completely still, donning his trademark shades, even in the sleepy shadows of your room, in the night.

You shyly reached up, the movement prompting X6 to turn to look at you, making it easier for you to gently brush the frame of his glasses.  He stiffened, and you tenderly removed the glasses from his face.  Your heart tripped at the sight of his eyes – which you seldom were allowed to see, pale, and clear; shouting honesty and reason from their depths.  His hands came to cautiously rest at your waist, unable to let go, and unwilling to pull you in.  You swallowed, before pressing your hands against the sides of his face.  You could feel his soft, smooth skin, the slight stubble on his jaw.  Your breathing grew heavier, before you mildly pressed your lips to his.  He grunted shortly, his eyes falling shut as you tried moving your lips.  You could feel his unsureness in the stiffness of his mouth, the careful way he mimicked your own kneading movements.

You let your arms curl around him further, pressing yourself to him, as his grip on you tightened. You slipped your tongue into the kiss, noting how is lips welcomed it, sucking and kissing, not at all phased by the addition. The kiss left both of you fighting for breath when you pulled away; cheeks flushed, your hair disheveled.

“That was…good.” You fought down the crimson that threatened your cheeks once again.

X6’s eyes flicked to you, “It was.” He agreed.

“You’re a quick learner.”  You smiled, “So, of course you passed today’s lesson with flying colors.” You teased, trying to lighten the mood.

“Today’s lessons?” X6 perked up.  “What is…tomorrow’s?”

“I was joking, we don’t have to take it a day at a time, you know.  That might be…fast.”

“What’s the next lesson though?”

You bit your lip, “It might be a bit much for you today.”

“I want to…learn it.” He finished awkwardly, his eyes narrowing at the metaphor that dragged perplexedly.

“You said I’m a fast learner.” He said pointedly.

He was treading into dangerous territory – you did want to sleep with X6, but you had always wanted it to be, somehow, less clinical.

“I want to be good at this next thing, for you.  Tell me how to do it right, I’ll listen.”

You hesitated, still deeply unsure.  You wanted to tell him that you couldn’t – not like this.  But what came out was-

“Kiss me again.” Your voice sounded weak.  Scared.

X6 slid an arm around your waist, pulling you to him much like you had been before, before pressing his lips to yours.  This time was much more natural; he had worked in some lip movements – and they were  _heavenly_ , stroking the apprehensive arousal that had started to bud in you.  He really was a fast learner.

“Now, what?” his voice was husky, his breath fanned over your face, as he growled into the kiss.

“You- can kiss other areas too.” You pinkened.  

He paused, thinking for a moment.  Then he leaned you back, so that you were laying on the bed again.  You felt him experimentally nuzzle at your neck, and you squeaked at the small, ticklish sensation, before he pressed his mouth to it, and you sighed.  He seemed to notice the small reactions you’d let out, and so he kept his attention on your neck.  He gave it a wet lick, before latching his mouth to the sensitive skin, and sucking.

You groaned, “Ah – X6, please.”

“Please what?” he murmured into your neck.

“T-touch me.”  You hated the desperation that dripped from your voice, but X6 didn’t comment, only smoothing his hands down the slopes of your body, testing.  You whimpered as his hands slid over your breasts, and this did not go unnoticed by the man holding you.

He hooked a finger around the collar of your shirt, pausing to look at you.

You pinched your eyes shut, “You can..take it off.”

In the next moment, you felt your shirt being undone, and pulled away from you, as his warm, calloused hands descended upon the soft flesh.  You couldn’t help the mewls that spilled from your mouth as he rubbed and squeezed, pinched and rolled, teased your hardened nipples, trying to catalogue all the reactions he could discern from you.

Your own hands reached blindly, falling onto the buttons of his courser uniform.  

“Did you want this off?”

His voice was level, and it made you hate your own breathless croon more.

“Please.”

His hands disappeared from you for a few moments, and you could hear the muted popping of buttons, before a short break and the sound of heavy fabric dropping to the floor. You opened your eyes and smoothed your hands over his sculpted torso.  He was warm, and you splayed your fingers across the play of muscle beneath his skin.

“You’re handsome.” You remarked.

X6 didn’t answer. Instead, he crooked his index finger, skimming the back of it down the length of your torso – starting at the clavicle, and down the sternum, down the soft flesh of your stomach, lingering at the hemline of your shorts.

“Is this okay?”

You nodded, “It is.”

That was all the encouragement he needed.  He hooked a finger into the waistband, before sliding them off of you, and letting them drop to the floor too.  He eyed your panties, and the way they clung to your shapely ass.  His eyes moved up over the curve of your spine, and the swell of your breasts.  The way your tousled hair spread like a halo around you.  Your flushed skin, and the way you lay delicately spread for him.  It had the stiffness between his legs growing, as well as the pink in his cheeks.

“Cute.”

There was no way you heard him correctly.

“Please, X6 can you touch me…there?”

You felt a lithe finger slide down your wet slit.

“Here?”  He sounded almost smug.

“Y-Yes!”

You felt him slide the digit in, pumping slowly for a moment, reveling in your tight wetness.

“Now what do you want me to do?”

“A-Another finger please.”

A few moments later, you felt another digit prod at your entrance.  He slowly penetrated you, feeling the way your muscles stretched to accommodate them; a painless process in your current slickness.

“Does that feel good?”

You couldn’t warrant the question with a response, as pure desire tensed you ,it made you clamp your thighs around him, made you writhe with want, as you impatiently reached down to brush your hungry fingers against your clit.

X6 watched you stimulate the small bundle of nerves before firmly pushing your hand away, to replace it with one of his own.

His fingers were adept and unwavering, shooting jolts of pleasure through you with each sensitive brush.

You jerked beneath him, “Oh X6, please, I need more.”

“What do you need?” he murmured, his eyes boring into you.

“For…you to…please…”

You couldn’t bring yourself to say it – it was so lewd.

“I don’t understand, you’ll have to be more clear.”  X6 kept his expression flat.  He was definitely smug now.

“Please X6,” you whined, “Please fill me up.”

He had already technically been doing this, but for once, X6 was going to trust his gut first, in assuming that this hadn’t been what you were craving – not quite.  He popped the button on his trousers, before shoving them down, along with the briefs he wore underneath, freeing his erect cock.

Your eyes hungrily took in his length, before watching it disappear as he eased it inside your dripping entrance.

“This feels…exceptional.”  X6’s voice was tight, as you clenched around him.  

“It’ll get even better,” you hissed impatiently, bucking your hips in a signal that told him to start moving.  

X6 thrusted once. The resistance had made it more difficult than he had originally thought, but the  _feeling_  of that delicious friction sliding down him…

X6 thrusted again, and again, trying to evolve a constant rhythm.  You heard him grunt at the exertion of pumping into you, and you arched your back, trying to grind further into him.  His hands anchored your thighs to his shoulders, carrying you with the impact of his thrusts, watching the enticing way it jostled you.

You whined as your arousal grew, tensing inside your abdomen with each thrust.  You keened as he fucked you roughly, his rhythm haphazard, but his girth fitting you like a key in a lock.  His length brushing the most delicious spots inside of you.  It was after a few thrusts into one of these spots that he felt you tense around him, before a rush of wetness seeped from you. X6 groaned, but his thrusting never ceased on his own fervent pursuit of orgasm, the movement making an audible wet sound.

Your legs trembled as the increased sensitivity urged you to keep ahold of him, milking him, but your fatigued body thought otherwise.  You struggled to keep ahold as his own climax reached him.  His searing erection twitching noticeably inside you, before filling you with a warmth.  His load seeped out, white droplets decorating your thighs, as he swiftly removed himself from you.

“X6?”

Your eyes were shut tiredly, but a few moments later you felt something soft brush against your sex, drying you.

“I’m here.”

“Mkay,”

You heard some more rustling, before you felt something warm shifting you over, and the blankets being drawn up over you.  You curled up against the courser’s sturdy frame, noting the way his arms wrapped around you – something that hadn’t happened prior to this.  You idly wondered if this had eased his view on intimacy.

“I heard something.”

X6 said softly, his lips at your ear, punctuating the sleepy, fresh silence that had fallen on the room.  X6 took your silence as encouragement to continue.

“I heard that sleeping with…your lover, can be beneficial to those involved.”

You nuzzled closer, trying to leech on his warmth.  You pressed a small kiss to his chest, taking in his scent; smooth and leathery.

“I believe that,  _lover_.”

You were already on your way to dreamland, so you missed the pink that stained his cheeks, as he watchfully cradled you in his arms, determined to help you in any way he could; in the way he so desperately wanted to, hoping you felt his lover’s embrace


End file.
